Halfway to Hell
by Bittersweet Revenge
Summary: [future RonBellatrix]! Ron is fighting for his life faced to the Death Eaters but they speare him, deciding to keep him as a prisoner... he then meets Bellatrix


**Title: Halfway to Hell**

**Author: Bittersweet Revenge**

**Summary:** Ron is fighting for his life faced to the Death Eaters but they spare him, deciding to keep him as a prisoner... He then meets Bellatrix... future Ron/Bella

**Rating:** It is G for now, but will definitely go up. I don't know until where.

**Gender:** dark/romance

**Pairing:** Ron/Bellatrix (how cool is that!)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything... in some way

**A/N:** new version **POST HBP. **Contains **SPOILERS**.

First version was written ages ago. Current chapter much longer and completely different.

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**Chapter 1: **

He laid on the ground, motionless, wondering what was happening. Why was he laying in mud? For how long had he been laying there? He couldn't think straight, all he could really focus on were the droplets of water coming down on him from above. It was raining. He had always loved rain, thinking it was the most relaxing of nature's phenomena. Bringing his stiff hand above his head, he started feeling the water hitting it softly, one drop after the other. But something was wrong. Why was his hand red? Why couldn't he feel it? In fact, now that he thought of it, he couldn't feel anything at all, anywhere in his body, save perhaps the rain.

"Get up, you fool!" a woman's voice screeched.

But he was too fascinated by the vivid colour of his hand. What was happening? Why was he laying in mud? Why was his hand red? What a pretty colour, he thought, letting his head fall back on the mucky ground. No, it was not the time to think, he was too tiered, too weak. He wanted to sleep, but the odour in the air was too putrid to let him doze off, it made him think of burnt flesh.

"Do you want to die?" a boy's voice yelled, a familiar voice that made bells ring in his head. "Ron, please, get up! RON!"

What was going on? He didn't understand. Instead, he focused on the rain. It was beautiful. Slowly, it was washing the red off his hands. But where had the colour come from again? He wasn't sure. Was he hurt? If seemed to come from someone else. Someone was hurt? And what was he doing outside in this weather? His mother was going to kill him for dirtying his clothes. He sighed and was completely astonished to realize that simple action he had done so many times before made him experience the most surprising pain.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ a man's voice roared, a flash of vivid green illuminating the sky for a second or two.

What had he heard? Someone was saying the killing curse? Then someone must have died. But why would someone want to kill someone else? It made no sense. It was stupid, it was senseless. Why would someone do such a horrible thing? Don't they know they will be going to Azkaban now? It's horrible, really horrible. But who had just died, and why was he laying in mud?

"Ron!" the same familiar voice yelled at the top of his lungs. "Help them! Help them! Get up! Please, please!"

Someone needed help? He needed help. He needed help to get back in the Burrow and up the stairs and into his bed. Would someone help him do that? Ginny couldn't be too far. He tried calling her name but nothing came. His throat hurt. But he hadn't been yelling... or had he? Or was he at a Quidditch match, cheering his friends? Had he fallen from his broom? Someone was sure to stop the game to come and help him. Harry would, Harry always watched over him in some way. But why had someone said the killing curse then? Surely they weren't that pissed off that the other team was loosing. But why was he in so much pain?

"_Crucio_!" someone screamed.

What if he was the one the killing curse had hit? Was he dead? Was he dying? Was this a battle? He wasn't sure of anything, thoughts were not clear in his head. Had he fallen? Where was the pain coming from? He felt like he was going to fall unconscious. "Stop the game, I'm hurt!" he felt like yelling. But the crowd kept on cheering. But was it really cheering? It sounded more like screaming. Screaming at the top of their lungs. And it was a familiar scream, a scream he had sometimes provoked with dead rats and strange spells. But now it was a serious scream, not like the playful one he was used to heat. Who was it? Who did it belong to?

"So it hurts, little girl? It hurts?" someone was laughing.

Who would laugh at someone else's pain? Who was screaming? He turned his head and opened his eyes. There was someone rolling on the ground, someone with red hair and freckles. Ginny? Could it be Ginny? His baby sister was screaming? Then someone should be smart enough to cancel the Quidditch game. Who would play in such conditions? God his head hurt. And Ginny, he had to help her!

"RON GET UP! LOOK AT GINNY! RON! RON!" this time he recognized the voice, it was Hermione.

So Hermione wasn't the one that had been hit by the killing curse. Who had been hit? Was it him? Could it be him? This was surely hell. He was dead, he had broken his neck falling from his broom. Everyone would laugh his death, finding it ridiculous. Or had he died from the killing curse? Yes, he saw the flash of green light. This was hell. He was seeing everyone suffer. Ginny... poor Ginny... he was going to kill whoever was hurting her. Kill him with the killing curse, just like that Death Eater had killed him. Was it really a Death Eater though?

"RON, Ron..." Ginny was saying, grasping onto the ground.

It was Snape, it was Malfoy... the traitors. Dumbledore was gone, he couldn't save Ginny. He was dead, dead like him. Maybe even if he was dead he could save Ginny. Maybe he could be a ghost and watch over her. He could watch over all his friends, and still do pranks on everyone, and everyone would like him and not laugh at him. Yes, he was poor, yes, he wasn't a good quidditch player, but he was more alive at that moment than any of them. Because he felt dead, he felt nothing would be right again. The pain and the screams were too strong.

The screaming got louder, and it wasn't only Ginny. Turning his head on the other side, he could see Tonks, Tonks on the ground, Tonks with a wedding ring on her hand, Tonks holding on to her stomach, her big round stomach where another heart was beating yesterday. She came to see the Quidditch match? Was she dead? Was she the one the curse had hit? Remus was going to kill whoever did it then, because for once, he was starting to be happy again. Poor Remus. Poor Tonks. Poor Ginny.

And Ginny was still screaming and he couldn't take it. He had to do something. Maybe his broom was lying close by and he could whack the fool who was hurting his baby sister. Yes, that's what he had to do. He had to save her, he was already dead so it didn't matter, but his baby sister had to live, she had to see the end of the war.

His wand was right there, in his hand, his hand covered in blood that did not belong to him. He tried to pull himself off the ground but suddenly, all the pain came back and he screamed, he yelled, he yelled like Ginny. He yelled with everyone else. And he realized this was not a game, this was not Quidditch, this was not a dream. People were dying and suffering and he had to help. This was war. He had to ignore the pain, he had to do it for his little sister, for her at least. He could not deceive her. Not her.

He painfully got to his knees and turned towards his sister's assailant.

"LET HER GO!" he roared, pointing his hand at the draped Death Eater.

But the follower of the Dark Lord did not stop, not at all. Ginny's screams doubled, flaring Ron's anger. Around them were wizards, some dead, some still alive. Some crying, some screaming, some with broken or missing limbs, some fighting for their lives, others running for it. Others, on the other side, were laughing, smiling maniacally, destroying, ruining lives, ruining happiness. He hated them. He loathed them.

He felt so angry, so alive, it burned in him as he watched his baby sister going insane because of that cloaked individual. And now he felt the need to destroy, to hurt.

"_CRUCIO_!" he bellowed, pointing his wand at the Death Eater.

And the spell he had never used before worked. The Death Eater screeched in pain dropping his wand, holding on to his body. Ginny was released, but she did not move. She simply stared blankly into the sky with her wide eyes. And if enraged Ron even more to see that deep down inside, she was still hurt, she was still screaming.

"_CRUCIO, CRUCIO, CRUCIO_!" he kept on screaming, pointing his wand at the Death Eater.

He got to his feet, reached him and started kicking him. But the Death Eater could not bear all this torture, already weakened by his previous fights. He fell and screamed no more. Panting, Ron stared at the motionless mass. He wanted to know who had hurt his sister, who had killed innocents, who he had just murdered.

Bending down he ripped off the mask, only to see a face he did not know, a wizard he had never seen before. Instead of calming down, he fumed. It would have soothed him to know he had killed someone he knew, someone he had seen, someone that had been linked to him in some way, someone that would have had a reason to want to hurt his sister. But no, it was no one. Hopefully, he had been someone to another being, and that being would cry and go insane due to the unsupportable agony this loss procured him.

Because he had lost friends and family, and he wanted revenge. He looked down at his clothes and saw that they were mostly covered in mud and blood. They no longer resembled the dress robes he had bought himself in Diagon Alley for his brother's wedding. His brother's wedding... Bill and Fleur...

He looked down at Ginny and noticed her state had not changed. He picked her up from the ground, her frilly peach bride's maid dress now brown due to the mud.

"Don't worry, everything will be all right, Ginny," he whispered in her ear, praying she was not going to become like Neville's parents.

She nodded weakly, passing her shaking arms around his neck.

Ron still felt extremely dizzy and couldn't think or see very clearly. He most probably had been hit by too many curses. He walked forward, carefully stepping over obstacles, trying to reach a safe spot where he could leave Ginny and go back onto the battlefield. He nearly dropped Ginny when he saw Hermione, because Hermione was not like he remembered her to be. She was wild, she was angry, she was fighting for her life. It looked like someone crazy had taken a knife and had tried to destroy her left arm. It was hacked and bloody and yet she kept on fighting. And then suddenly, Ron heard someone right behind him mutter a spell. He threw himself to the ground just in time to see a silver ray of light fly where he had been standing.

"HERMIONE!" he yelled.

She turned in his direction right as the light hit her. And then the most peculiar thing happened. His friend froze in place, her eyes staring unblinkingly in front of her, her surprised features solidifying themselves, freezing... and the silver jet that had hit her started expanding on her skin, transforming everything it touched in a grey, solid substance. Before anything could be done, Hermione was no longer the fiery witch fighting for her life, she was a statue of rock and marble, unmoving, unblinking. Her outstretched, lifeless hand holding her wand stayed in place, suspended in the air in front of her. Every lock of her hair, every curve of her body and rumple of her dress... stone.

Ron couldn't believe his eyes but Ginny brought him back to reality by starting to scream at the sight of Hermione's statue. She yelled, cried, kicked as she called out her friend's name. But Ron had to keep her down because he could hear the caster of the spell walking towards them.

"Ginny, shhhh!" he told her, placing his hand on her mouth and turning towards the Death Eater that had petrified Hermione. "_Stupefy_!" He yelled.

The Death Eater fell unconscious once the red light hit him. Ron was about to get back up when something hard brutally hit him behind the head. He fell forward, on top of Ginny who was screeching like mad harpies. The log leviated by the wizard Hermione had been fighting fell to the ground mere inches from Ron's face.

"UP!" the Death Eater yelled.

Ron could actually feel the blood rushing in his veins. The back of his head was killing him, the dizziness was suffocating. The rain and clouds were turning above him, and he wanted the swaying to stop, but it wouldn't. He tried raising himself, only to fall on the ground again, right above Ginny. The Death Eater repeated his order to him, but all Ron could truly feel was anger, blended with his dizziness. Anger, because a Death Eater had his wand pointed towards him and was giving him an order. But in Ron's mind, people who killed for pleasure could not give orders. They belonged locked up in Saint Mungo's or in Azkaban or, even better, in a grave.

But Ron was going to obey, because Ginny was there and he had to protect her. He left her on the ground and rose, standing between her and the cloaked man in front of him.

"You seem quite attached to that girl," the wizard said neutrally. "And attachment is a flaw. Flaws are meant to be destroyed."

Ron kept silent, too afraid of yelling if he opened his mouth. _You're wrong, you're wrong!_

Two flashes of green light brightened the dark sky at the same time, on either side of them. Two others had fallen. The rain kept on falling. It soaked Ron's hair, glided down his neck, keeping him awake. He would have abandoned long ago if Ginny's screams hadn't awoken him from his stupor, as he laid on the ground, not knowing what had happened before... before... when the wedding was taking place... when Bill and Fleur were dancing and everyone was merry... what had happened next? He did not recall. All that happened next was pain, darkness and anger. But now there was a Death Eater in front of him.

His friends were out there. His family was fighting, Harry was doing so as well. He needed to awake Hermione and get Ginny in a safe place. He needed to kill those who hurt his loved ones and help the others. He was not going to fall now. He was too fuelled up by anger to fall now.

"_Imperio_!" the Death Eater yelled.

But the spell did not hit Ron, it hit Ginny, and she suddenly rose to her feet very calmly, too calmly for the state she had been in mere moments ago.

"Kill your brother by any means possible," the Death Eater ordered her.

"Ginny don't listen to him! Fight the curse! Fight it!" Yelled Ron.

But poor Ginny already had her wand in hand and was pointing it towards him.

"_AVADA K_-" but Ginny never got the chance of finishing her curse.

Holding her from behind was Bill, looking more feral than ever. His suit was slashed and torn, not at all what he had expected it to become on the day of his wedding. The scars on his face seemed accentuated by the fact that he was concentrating on restraining his own sister from killing one of his brothers.

Ron ran towards them to try and contain her as well. Just as he reached them, he saw Bill's eyes widen and his hand reach for his wand. Turning around, Ron saw Death Eaters, four, five, maybe even six of them crouched at the entrance of the chapel where they had been celebrating the wedding. All around them were bodies, bodies of people they knew, of people they had greeted that same morning... among the dead he could see George and his father, their lifeless corpses lying on the steps, wand in hand.

Ron stood motionless, frozen in place by the horrid yet grandiose scenery displayed for him to see. Bodies forever unmoving, spread out across the ground and steps, an image of the weak and powerful. The Death Eaters stayed rock-still, hideous and ghastly creatures of doom, poised in their indifference, ruling over life, taking it away with a wave of their hands or sparing it like they were doing now, watching them, the weaker. He could not say if they were smiling. He thought not, but who could be sure of what hid under those masks? Maybe they were not human. Who would have the audacity of killing new born children and their mothers? Not humans, it couldn't be. Who would torture to death the weak and innocent? Not humans, no. They were monsters, vile beings that had no right to live.

Ron's mind clouded itself. He couldn't move, frozen by fear and wonder.

Someone whispered his name. Was it his brother? Or maybe Ginny, or even someone else he knew and cared for. Someone who needed his help or his support. Someone who needed him.

But he was transfixed, unable of taking his eyes off the Death Eaters. He had seen them before, he had fought them before, but this time was different. This time they weren't winning and luck wasn't on their side. This time, they could not do anything. This time people were suffering and dying, it was real, it wasn't a game. He was no longer a child, he was no longer a Weasley or a student, or a pureblood, he was simply trying to survive with the rest of them. And his instincts were forcing him to stay unmoving.

Someone called his name again, and he knew it was Bill. But this time his voice was distant. Was he running away with Ginny? Ron was too afraid of turning his back on the Death Eaters. If he was going to die, it wasn't while trying to flee. If he was going to die, it was going in the middle of a battle, protecting the ones he loved and cared for. But wouldn't Bill think the same thing? Why was he running? He had Ginny, and Ginny couldn't die in battle. He was saving her, he wasn't abandoning his little brother to the mercy of seven or eight followers of the Dark Lord. No... Bill wouldn't do that.

Ron was dying to turn around and see where his friends were, if they were coming back to get him, if he was safe, but the Death Eaters were staring at him, growing in number at the chapel's entrance, forming a semi-circle in front of him. All were watching him, wands out, waiting. But what were they waiting for?

"_Avada Kedavra_!" a distant voice yelled.

Who had just died now? Was it one of them, or another loved one? He wanted to see, he wanted to go help them... because the screams and yells were growing fainter and he needed to know what was happening. But they were watching...

Ron raised his wand and made a step forward. If it was meant to be the end, then it was.

But another cloaked figure hexed him first, making him fall head first in the mud. Before he could get up, five or six other hexes had been performed and he was trapped, trapped by all of them. He rose to his feet.

Who was dead? Who had survived? What had happened and how had it started? He didn't know. Where were his friends, where was his family? Had they ran away, leaving him there? Did they think he was dead? Dead, just like George and dad... would Bill say he was the last one to see him, facing eight Death Eaters all by himself? And Ginny... was she okay? What about Harry... Hermione... Fleur and mom, Hagrid, Charlie, McGonagall... was he dead? Was this the end for him? Because if it was, it was hell.

Someone pushed him to his knees and so he fell in the mud. He did not want to look up, knowing cloaked figures would be staring at him from behind their masks, smirking down on him. Pulling on the ropes that tied his hands together behind his back was useless, he knew they wouldn't give in no matter how long he tugged on them, and even if they did, what good would that bring? He couldn't run, having nowhere to go. He couldn't fight, his wand being out of reach. Where? In a Death Eater's pocket maybe, or lost in a puddle of mud. Maybe he would never have the chance to fight again, anyways. He was dead, dead like he had imagined himself of being during his delusions, in the mud, where he had fallen an hour or so before.

He did not want to look up, because he knew he would be there, the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, the man that had ruined this beautiful day.

"Ronald Weasley..." hissed a cold, heartless voice from above him.

And then he heard no more, darkness sweeping over his mind.

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I like writing this. It's weird. What do you think about it?


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